Ontogeny
by CircuitBoards
Summary: Commander Santana Lopez and Payload Specialist Dr. Brittany Pierce are among the crew of the first manned space flight to Mars. When Dr. Pierce uncovers an unexpected reading from the scout rover, it's up to Commander Lopez to lead her crew into mankind's greatest discovery…or flee from the unknown. Brittana
1. Get Lucky

Grateful for the privacy of her personal cabin, Commander Santana Lopez grinned unabashedly at the clock on her desk: 185/04:13 MET (Mission Elapsed Time). After leaving Earth's atmosphere nearly 6 months ago they were only three weeks away from Mars' orbit. Their scouting rover touched down the week before, and all preliminary scans of the Gale Crater landing site were coming back clean. For the moment she allowed the excitement of the occasion overpower her typical stoicism. She fingered the mission patch on her sleeve: A shuttle touching down on a red planet, STS-522 embroidered in gold lettering across the top. Her crew consisted of the finest group to ever come out of the NASA Astronaut Corps, and soon they would be the first humans to set foot on a new planet. She felt the soft swelling of pride for the crew she had come to rely on. It was one thing to blast off to the ISS for a few months, the Earth spinning comfortingly close below, but they were going to be on Mars for almost a year and a half; An unprecedented foray that would have implications for potential colonization. Their home world would be just another star in the night's sky.

The buzzing of the radio shattered her introspective moment.

"Lab Three-Alpha to Commander Lopez." She scowled at the small holes in the device and clicked the call back button

"Lopez by".

"What's your 20, Commander?"

"_Private_ Quarters." She didn't bother to hide the annoyance in her voice. She was still within her designated rest quota for this period, with instructions not to be disturbed unless under emergency circumstances. And she wasn't hearing any alarms.

"Payload Specialist Pierce would like to speak with you." Usually she'd brush off the request, with a patronizing reply. Usually. She let a hint of her smile return. Sometimes exceptions were necessary. She zipped up her black coveralls and mashed the call back button.

"10-4, I'll 25 in the lab bay."

Santana stepped out of the lift on Deck 2, which housed the laboratories, medical bay, and hydroponics station. She stopped a moment to look in through the glass walls of the hydroponics lab. A thin sheen of condensation coated the inside of the glass, the few botanists milling around amongst the plants had their light blue coveralls rolled down to the waist and tied around their hips. Taller plants hung on tracks, roots exposed, cycling through aero-misters, while other smaller plants sprouted from large PVC helixes that reached from floor to ceiling. One of the botanists looked out and waved, Santana nodded her acknowledgement and turned toward the lab bay. As much as the hydroponics lab fascinated her, she had business to attend to.

She spied Payload Specialist Dr. Brittany Pierce pacing just inside the lab bay doors. Her movement caused her white lab coat to rustle around her calves and she worried her bottom lip between her teeth as she tapped something out on her datapad. Doors that read "Lab Bay" in frosted white lettering slid open as Santana approached. glanced up at the whooshing of the door.

"Commander, thank you for meeting me," Dr. Pierce smiled briefly and shoved the datapad into one of her large front pockets.

"I hope this is something good, , I was really enjoying the last of my rest hours." Santana let the corner of her mouth twitch up slightly at the jest. Dr. Pierce grinned and adjusted the glasses on her nose. Most of the crew was intimidated by Santana (which she preferred), but it meant when she did choose to joke around, she was more likely to be met with a cower than a chuckle. Dr. Pierce was a brilliant scientist, the best astrobiologist the program ever had, and above all she was an astute observer. Five weeks into the mission Santana had called a meeting with the science crew and announced that whoever was leaving empty ration packets all over the galley was going to get launched out of the airlock. Her announcement was met with a room full of pale faces, and Dr. Pierce standing the back covering a smile with her datapad. Santana caught her mirth crinkled eyes across the room, and raised an eyebrow, daring her to call her out on the ridiculous mandate. Not to be out done, Dr. Pierce just raised hers back, and left the room shaking her head at her crewmates accusing whispers.

"Trust me, it's way better than an hour spent practicing intimidating glares,"Dr. Pierce threw over her shoulder, leading Santana down the hall past the other labs. She followed with a very non-commanding eye-roll behind Dr. Pierce's back. Yes, Dr. Pierce was very skilled at observation. _A little too skilled at times_, Santana thought, _and definitely much too damn cheeky for her own good_.

They entered lab 3A. Dr. Pierce's home base and the only lab with a full window view of the starry black ocean their ship sailed. A mission specialist at one end of the lab nodded a greeting when they entered before returning to his work, pipetteing some viscous liquid into a vial. Shelves of equipment lined the walls. A bookshelf with texts whose titles went over Santana's head sat just under the window and next to an incubation rig, where petri dishes filled with varying colored specimens grew. A long shiny steel table ran the length of the glass wall bordering the hallway. Santana appreciated the few bursts of the personality amongst the sterility of the lab. Pressed up against the glass was a neat little row of vials, each containing a soil sample from a different continent of earth, labeled in neat feminine script. A poster with a parody on the "March of Progress", in which the fully evolved man looked back at his journey, and read 'Phylogeny' at the bottom, covered one of the long cabinet doors.

"Scout has been sending back atmosphere and weather information, but it's also begun taking some preliminary sediment readings," as she explained, Dr. Pierce plugged in her datapad and began sorting through files on the computer terminal, "At my request he was also equipped with microscope, with remotely controlled magnification-"

"Of course it was," Santana interrupted, trying to get a rise out of the even-tempered scientist. She ignored Santana and continued searching for the desired file.

"Anyway, we found something, in the soil, just at the base of Aeolis Mons," she pulled up played the video she had been searching for. It looked like a bunch of blurry little red rocks, just as Santana leaned in, she though she saw some movement along the corner of the screen. Whoever was recording the video increased the microscope's magnification and showed three little _somethings_ moving slowly around the magnified pieces of dirt. "They're ciliates, Commander." Her voice wavered with excitement, but the commander didn't share in her awe.

"We've seen bacteria on Mars before…I admire your enthusiasm, but I'm not sure I share it." She frowned at the little creatures wiggling on the screen.

"With all due respect, this is not what we've seen before," Dr. Pierce closed out the video and pulled up a clearer still image of the small organisms. "These have motile cilia," she pointed to the hair-like protrusions all over the creature, "they are able to move. Motion typically evolves as an adaptation to feed. These bacteria aren't photosynthetic, like the ones we've seen before. They're heterotrophs. They aren't making energy, they're consuming it!" Santana watched Dr. Pierce's blue eyes alight with barley restrained joy. "Commander, these bacteria aren't just aimlessly growing, they're hunting, feeding on other bacteria. There's actually an ecosystem down there!"


	2. Instant Crush

Brittany rolled aching shoulders and blinked the spots from her eyes. After running a visual match for every known motile-ciliate all day she'd spent the last three hours comparing slides of earth specimen. While she'd never complain about being at the end of a microscope, she'd been awake through many of her designated rest hours. The adrenaline from her discovery was wearing out and exhaustion was closing in.

_After checking, rechecking, and rechecking her recheck she had allowed excitement to get the best of her. Some dance freestyle may or may not have occurred in Lab 3A. Before her mission specialist could voice the confusion on his face, she asked him to call Santana-well-_Commander Lopez_ down to the lab._

Brittany sighed and slid her lab coat off dropping it over the back of her favorite chair. Unfortunately, the commander hadn't reacted quite the way she'd hoped. After a few calm questions about safety and where the research was headed, she nodded thoughtfully. _And I just stood there gaping like an idiot_, Brittany thought, putting back on her glasses, _like she was going to start jumping for joy_. The Commander had smiled softly, genuinely (a rarity in itself) and looked from Brittany to the small creature on the screen.

"This is really an amazing discovery Dr. Pierce, I'm very impressed. Keep up the good work. I'm looking forward to seeing where this research takes you. Can you give me a report in a few days?" Brittany had confirmed, of course. She always did that; managed to simultaneously make a person feel awesome about what they had done and want to do ten times more. Professionally, she left Brittany extremely fulfilled. Personally though… Commander Lopez's perpetual stoicism left Brittany a little hollow. She found herself tracing the corners of her lips or the edges of her eyebrows to eke out the bits of personality that seeped through the Commander's mask. All she needed was Commander Lopez's approval to continue her research, she had gotten not just approval, but pride. Really it was more than she could have hoped for.

_But still_, she thought, _a hug or something would have been nice_.

"Can't always get what you want…" Brittany sang softly to herself, grinning at her own foolishness. She would crack the Commander's tough exterior one of these days. Until then…she looked up at the blurry picture she had printed off and taped to the cabinet door, "But if you try sometimes, well you just might find…You get what you need." She had found living specimens on Mars. These weren't the fossils of bacteria they had seen so many times before. This was growing, feeding, potentially evolving, life. They weren't heading towards some cold dead rock; they were going to find a whole planet breathing and alive.

Brittany pressed the green button that opened the door to the hydroponics lab. She breathed in the heavy humidity that embraced her the moment she stepped inside. She greeted one of the mission specialists monitoring the plants while she unzipped her coveralls and tied the top half above her waist. The MSs in the hyrdo-lab were used to seeing her and usually left her alone. She made her way toward the back corner of the lab shivering as the moisture settled on her bare arms. Wearing the long sleeves nearly every hour of the day left her skin hyper sensitive. She sunk down in the back corner of the lab, between two rows of aero-misters, with her back against the wall. If she closed her eyes she could almost pretend she was hidden away in the red wood forests back home. The steamy forest floor cradling her and giving life to organisms for which time had no meaning. She strained her ears for the sounds of the chickadees peeping in the branches or the chipmunks rustling the underbrush. But all she heard was the shuffle of approaching footsteps, reminding her she was as far from that place as anyone had ever been. She opened her eyes and looked up at the dapper man in front of her.

"Hey Kurt." Payload Specialist Kurt Hummel was chief botanist on the _Neptune_ and one of Brittany's favorite people on the crew.

"Hi Britt, mind if I join you?" Brittany slid over a bit and patted the ground next to her. Kurt settled down close, crossing his legs and letting his knee bump against hers. Early on in the mission Kurt had found Brittany hiding in the back of the hydro-lab. He had just smiled and settled in next to her. "I come sit back here sometimes." He had confided. "It's nice. To just relax with the plants."

"How goes the growing?" Brittany asked after they sat in companionable silence for a while. Kurt sighed deeply and smoothed back the lock of hair that fell across his forehead. In the hopes of some day terra-forming they replicated the Martian soil to try growing some of the more stable crops.

"It's good, we've made a lot of progress since we first started. And we've been adjusting for what Scout's been sending back." Kurt shrugged, "But we'll never really know what it's like until we get there, so…"

"Have you seen anything…unusual…in the soil analysis?" Brittany probed.

"No. We're getting more precise estimates of the mineral ratios, though, so that's good." Brittany smiled to herself. She was the only one who had seen the protists. She considered sharing her find with Kurt but…for now she wanted to keep it just hers. And the Commander's, of course. It was nice, to share something between the two of them, even if it was just microscopic bacteria. She must have gotten _that_ look on her face, because Kurt bumped her shoulder and smirked. "You need to get over it. She's too professional to get involved with peasants like us." Kurt put his hand to his chest and sighed. Brittany snorted and elbowed him.

"Oh hush, you. It's not like that," Brittany pushed herself up off the floor and away from him to hide her blush. She brushed the non-existent dirt from the back of her coveralls.

"It's going to be a longggg two years for you," Kurt called out to her as she walked towards the door.

"God, I hope so," she smirked pulling on her sleeves and zipping up her coveralls.

Brittany finally trudged down the hallway of the crew quarters, putting her fist into the small opening next to her door. The red button next to her door blinked to green and she pushed it to open the door.

Brittany's cabin was small, but she counted herself lucky to be in a single, instead of doubling up like most of the crew. On the right a rack for hanging clothes depressed into the wall with four drawers below it. To the left her bed sat atop a small desk with her private terminal. On the back wall a small porthole window, like in all the private quarters, with a view of the inky sky. Brittany had taped pictures of her family around the porthole and a small picture of the Earth at the top. She tried, again, to comprehend how far she was from everything, but some by failing (_or protection, _she reasoned) of the mind, the enormity was lost on her. She set her datapad on her desk, stripped off her coveralls, kicking them into the corner of the room with another pair and sat down at her terminal in just her black tank top. A journal entry she though she finished the day before was blinking on her screen.

"Tubbs?" She called the small AI housed in her personal terminal.

"Yes, Brittany, what can I do for you?" At first Brittany had found his posh English accent patronizing, but as the months wore on it began to feel familiar.

"Turn on some jams, please, something mellow."

"As you wish." Brittany tapped her fingers along with the soft melody, scanning over her journal entry from the day before.

"Tubbs…have you been reading my diary?"

"Of course not, miss."

"Yeah, right," Brittany scoffed under her breath. She felt a swell of giddiness as she taped out her personal log of the day's events. "Tubbs, today I'm the most awesome person in the universe."

"Yes, miss, of course." Ignoring Tubbs' sarcasm, she leaned back in her chair and crossed her fingers behind her head. She smiled remembering how annoyed Commander Lopez sounded when she'd had her paged over the radio. Biting her lip, she looked back down at her open journal application.

"Tubbs, turn off the music and go to sleep." The music faded out softly.

"I don't sleep, Brittany, as I've told you before."

"Well, fine, then, just go away."

"As you wish." Brittany let her fingers hover over the keys for a moment, listening for any more from the AI. Satisfied he was at least being discrete she opened up her first journal entry; the day after she passed basic training. She and the other astronaut candidates in her group found themselves at BlastOff, a dive bar frequented by AsCans and the work weary from the Johnson Space Center (JSC) since the reopening of the space program. It was one of the wildest nights of her life since her undergrad at UCLA. Five drinks in, she was pulling her conquest for the evening into a cab back to her apartment. It was common knowledge among locals that getting picked up at BlastOff wasn't going in for the long haul. Many of the AsCans were gone within two years or less.

Brittany had described her evening in vivid detail she was thankful for many nights after and embarrassed by many next mornings. Feeling the familiar blush at reading over the evening's _activities_ with the one-night-stand who was gone before she woke, Brittany pressed her legs together tightly and closed out the entry. She pulled up her log from three days later. It was the shortest entry she had ever written. Biting her lip she read it over twice.

OH MY GOD, I FUCKED MY COMMANDER!

Commander Lopez had been professional about it, of course. If anything, Brittany suspected she found it amusing. She wondered a few times if the Commander was gently teasing her about the ordeal. But without the confidence to know for sure, Brittany just continued acting like it had never happened. When she had been assigned to _Neptune_'s crew, everyone told her how lucky she was to get such a good commander, even if she was a hard-ass. They were right, on all accounts. Fraternization amongst crew wasn't forbidden, as long as it didn't cause problems, but the commander was too serious about work to ever mix in play. Commander Lopez treated her as equally as the rest of the crew, and Brittany's mortification quickly turned into respect.

She turned off the screen to her terminal and dimmed the lights before climbing into her bed.

But still…

She remembered the tangle of black hair against her finger tips. She sighed and pulled the covers tighter around her body.

"Goodnight, Tubbs."

"There really is no 'day' or 'night' here."

"Just say 'goodnight'."

"Goodnight, Brittany."

**AN: You can consider this a prologue of sorts. Things will pick up from here. Please let me know if any terminology or science-y things don't make sense.**


	3. Human After All

Party planning wasn't on the list of skills required by a spacecraft Commander, but there Santana found herself. 48 hours ago NASA ground command (GC) sent her a reminder that on Earth, Independence Day was approaching, and it wouldn't hurt to take some time to remind the crew why exactly they were on their mission. Though their head medical specialist had extensive psychiatric training, as the one ultimately responsible for the crew's wellbeing, Santana was given an overview of psychological issues that might arise. Celebrating Earth holidays, keeping personal pictures of family and friends, and the few arcade games from home their splurged on, were intended to combat 'rapture of the deep'. The term technically applied to divers, who, becoming overwhelmed by the enormity of the sea, would forget land and swim deeper and deeper until they drowned. Santana rubbed her right wrist where a little round tattoo of the Earth was covered by her sleeve. She couldn't imagine forgetting the home she left behind.

Either way, her crew had been working hard and they deserved some fun. And despite the no-nonsense attitude her crew was used to, when it came to partying, Santana was an old pro. Grinning she walked into the Laboratory Bay and two doors down to Lab 2B where all their chemical experiments took place.

"How goes the research?" The thin man hunched over his computer terminal jumped a little at her voice. Santana smiled to herself. Startling scientists was one of her favorite past times. They were always so engrossed in their work, it was almost too easy.

"Oh, Commander, it's…uh…going well," He stood and adjusted his glasses. "As you know our carbon dioxide levels were a little high, but they seem to have balanced out now and are remaining stable." He pulled a datapad out of his pocket and quickly called up a graph of oxygen levels on the ship. Santana looked it over for a moment before handing it back.

"Good work, Abrams" Santana checked the lab to make sure they were alone. "Listen, have you ever made 'lab-ohol' before?" Mission Specialist Artie Abrams cleared his throat and shifted his feet.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean-" Santana held up a hand to silence him.

"Alright, cut the good little scientist act. Don't tell the rest of the crew, but GC suggested I do something to celebrate Independence Day. I'm putting together a little… _soiree_ and I need to know if you can brew up something that will get me through the horror of some of these fools' dancing." Abrams looked shocked for a moment before a grin crawled its way across his features.

"Ahh, don't worry, Commander, I got you. I won't tell anyone."Santana clapped him on the shoulder and smirked.

"You have my full confidence." Santana chuckled to herself as she left him to his project. _This is going to be one…interesting party._ As she left the Lab Bay, she glanced once, quickly, down the hallway toward Lab 3A, but she couldn't make up any good reason to ignore her busy schedule in favor of paying her favorite scientist a visit.

Santana's radio beeped an alert. She pulled it out and slid the message screen open. The reminder popped up "Physical/Psyc Eval due-QF". Though necessary, she hated the psyc evaluations. The probing of her mind always felt more invasive than the actual physical exam. Her finger hovered over the delete button as another message took its place "Don't pretend you didn't see that-QF". Santana rolled her eyes and called Flight Engineer Blaine Anderson. Ground Control had repeatedly asked her to stop referring to him as her 'glorified secretary'. _Taking my messages, making calls, and relaying my information to the rest of the crew? Sounds like a fucking secretary to me,_ Santana reasoned. Even though he "wasn't her secretary" she remembered Anderson talking about a waiter ex-boyfriend and that was as close to a cook as they were going to get. After briefing him with implicit instructions _not_ to tell the rest of the crew she relayed her request.

"Sure thing, Commander, you can count on me."

Santana leaned against the doorway and waited for the doctor to finish up with her patient. He was tall and awkward with a bad haircut. Even though Santana was fiercely loyal of the Neptune's crew, if she had to pick one to jettison, well…Some decisions were just easier than others. He was a last minute replacement when their original mechanic had broken his leg. Santana frowned at the memory. She'd seen it happen. During a training exercise he'd gotten cocky and wasn't paying attention. And though the leg was pretty bad, it was the broken look in his eyes that had taken weeks for Santana to shake.

"Hudson, you're fine. You don't need stitches; the cut isn't even that deep. I put some adhesive on it." Santana grinned at her friend's exasperated tone. Mission Specialist Finn Hudson thanked the doctor and left, briefly greeting Santana on his way out.

"Dr. Fabray. Another exciting morning in the med bay I assume?" Santana smirked at her crew mate and long time friend. Medical Specialist Fabray and Santana went through AsCan training together, and though she would never admit it, she was immensely relieved her biggest competition was on the medical track. Quinn glared from over her clipboard.

"I'm not going to answer that, I'm just going to poke you extra hard during your exam," Quinn set her paperwork down and motioned for Santana to take off her coveralls. "Don't tell me you're suddenly shy? You know the drill."

"So I'm planning a party. You know, for 4th of July." Quinn snorted. She professionally administered the exam, testing Santana's reflexes and examining her muscle mass. "It was GC's idea." Santana grinned wickedly. "I totally got Abrams to make us some grain alcohol."

"Oh my god, are you serious?" Santana nodded. "Do you remember what happened the last time you got a little too friendly with the labohol?" Quinn finished the muscle inspection and grabbed the supplies to draw blood. She pushed back the sleeves of the white coat she wore over her black coveralls. Everyone on the ship underwent a physical and psychological inspection once a month. Quinn took a blood test just after they left and was in the process of doing post-flight blood work on everyone. Santana hissed when the needle entered her skin.

"It's not for me. You _know_ I don't let loose when I'm flying." Santana looked at Quinn seriously. Quinn capped the test tube full of blood and withdrew the needle from Santana's arm. "I'm not mixing business and pleasure."

"This is going to be a long time without, S. It's not like you run the risk of getting pregnant," Quinn was always adamant that the lines of sexuality blurred once your feet left the ground, but Santana had yet to become desperate enough to get tingly for anything male. "Anyway, we're all veterans, everyone understands the rules." The unspoken rules of in-flight mingling. Everyone's first duty was to the mission and no worthy astronaut let anything get in the way. Certain comforts would always come second. Though blasting off toward another planet made human capability see boundless, spaceflight became a study in human limitation. In a place where there was 'nothing', suddenly all the 'somethings' that humans needed became glaringly obvious. Santana preferred to limit her 'somethings', as much as possible, though it was obvious not everyone felt the same way. Santana shifted uncomfortably and Quinn wrote down the notes from the physical exam on her clipboard.

"What about you? Aren't you lonely up here in the black?" Santana turned the questioning around. "You weren't exactly Nun Fabray back home." Quinn rolled her eyes.

"You know I have an_ arrangement_." Santana scoffed and pulled up her coveralls.

"Oh right, I forgot, for you pleasure _is_ business." Quinn shrugged. "What about my psyc eval?" Quinn had turned away to ready the blood tests.

"That was it." Santana couldn't see Quinn smirk at her friend's discomfort, but she rolled her shoulders feeling the seams of her coveralls rub roughly against her skin. Scowling, she left the Med Bay without saying anything else.

* * *

Santana sat on the counter swinging her legs against the cabinets. Word of the celebration had spread through the ship in under an hour. _Good thing astronauts aren't paid to keep secrets_. But Santana had to admit, they had done a great job pooling their resources. Chief Engineer Mike Chang had an impressive song selection, and had managed to rig the PA system to get some decent surround sound. The botanists, Hummel and Tina Cohen-Chang and Dr. Pierce had attempted decorations. The bioluminescent bacteria they hung in paper lamps really added a nice touch. They'd done their best to make a large American flag out of paper. And it was _adorable,_ Santana though, leaning back, she rested her cup against her bottom lip. She watched Dr. Pierce throw her head back to laugh at something Chang said. _Yes, incredibly adorable._ Abrams had tried to add some fruit juice to the labohol, but it was still-

"Fucking disgusting." Quinn leaned up against the counter where Santana was sitting. "Have you tried this shit?" Santana laughed and showed Quinn her still full cup.

"Unfortunately. But they don't seem to mind." Santana tilted her head toward the rest of the crew where they were dancing awkwardly and talking too loud. They wrapped their arms around each other's shoulders and the boys slapped each other's chests. Out here so far from everything and everyone, they were making a family with each other.

"Dr. Fabray! Check this out!" Quinn nudged Santana's knee and threw back the rest of her drink before joining the crew. Santana smiled, watching them from the outside. Times like these she wished she could throw off her role as Commander, choke down some disgusting lab-made alcohol, roll down her coveralls, and show up all these idiots with some sweet dance moves. But leadership didn't work that way, so she took a small sip, tried not to gag, and appreciated from the outside. A new song with a heavy bass started. It must have been something popular, because everyone started cheering. Santana saw start fist pumping and she couldn't help but laugh. Perhaps she heard her laugh over the music, or maybe she noticed her absence, but she caught Santana's eye. Maybe a better Commander would have looked away, but she held the scientist's gaze until Hummel said something that made her look away. She found herself thinking that perhaps the outside wasn't so far away after all.

As the crew began drifting off to their quarters, Santana patrolled the outskirts, picking up cups and plates and dropping them in the sanitizer. She watched Quinn's eyes dart to the doorway as their pilot left and then excuse herself a few minutes later. _Real subtle, Q._ Almost everyone was too busy with their own shenanigans to notice. But not Santana. She was ever observant, didn't miss anything, couldn't, even if she wanted to. And sometimes she _really_ wanted to. She could have done without watching Dr. Pierce stumble into the lift, laughing with Chang's arm around her shoulders. She shoved a plate into the sanitizer a little too hard and it cracked under her hand.

"Damn it." She dropped the plate into the waste. With just enough dishes for everyone, it meant they were now one plate short.

"Need some help?" Santana started and spun around. Dr. Pierce was leaning in the doorway trying to stifle a yawn.

"Oh, Dr. Pierce, I thought you had-" She swallowed, not wanting to assume, both for herself and for the scientist. "had gone to bed." She came farther in the room and started pulling down decorations.

"No, I just went to help Mike. I guess he had too much to drink," She grimaced, "Well, _any_ amount of that concoction was too much, but you know what I mean." She smiled. Santana did know what she meant. Even a little was too much, and that summed up all of her problems quite succinctly.

They continued work in silence, pulling down the decorations and returning the galley to its normal, boring, state. Everything was done, but Santana lingered. She claimed her favorite chair at the head of the table and Dr. Pierce sat to her right.

"So, we're getting pretty close now. Just about a week away," Santana commented fiddling with her sleeves. Dr. Pierce nodded.

"Yeah, I've been up in the bridge a few times recently," She smiled down at her hands, and looked up at Santana shyly. "This is really happening." She leaned forward in her seat. "We're really almost there. I mean, I always knew we were going to Mars…but…it's just so real, when you can see it growing every day…" She sat back and coughed, blushing slightly. "I probably sound silly to you. While I was in grad school you were already walking around the ISS." Santana tapped the table in front of her to get Dr. Pierce's attention.

"Don't dismiss your excitement. I'm excited too." Santana sighed and thought back to her missions to the ISS where the earth was so close. Getting back to Earth was quicker than driving out of the state. "This is something _no one_ has ever done before. If I weren't excited_ I'd _be the silly one." Santana bit her lip to keep herself from sighing at the look of gratitude from those striking blue eyes. They sat in silence for a few more minutes.

"Well-"

"You know-"

They started at the same time. Santana chuckled away the awkwardness.

"Go ahead, Commander."

"I was just going to say that, I'm really impressed with your work," Dr. Pierce tucked her hair behind her ear and sat up a little straighter. Santana enjoyed the eager look. "I can't wait to see what you'll uncover once you actually get some samples. People will start quoting you in papers, interviewing you. Fame. Fortune. You'll forget all about us and our little ship." The scientist rolled her eyes at Santana's talk of grandeur.

"No way," she bit her lip, and looked up at Santana. She could feel her teasing the boundaries. "There's no way I could ever forget anything about this. About the crew. About…you," Santana could tell she thought she'd said too much by the blush quickly creeping across her face. "I mean, you're all kind of family now."

"Well, just in case, I wanted to give you something. Something special, that no amount of ego boosting is going to let you forget." Usually Dr. Pierce shrugged off her teasing, but she could tell she was getting to the woman. She leaned forward and licked her lips, watching blue eyes flick down, just for a moment, but a moment was all Santana needed. "You're special, Dr. Pierce…Brittany. You've made a strong impression on me." They were both leaning so far forward. Santana felt herself slipping along the edge of the boundaries she had constructed, and…Brittany…pressed right along the other side. "I want you," Santana was so close to Brittany that could hear the light intake of breath, "to be on the initial shuttle. We'll land the _Neptune_ on Phobos and then take a shuttle down to the Martian surface. Four of us. And I want you to be one of those four." Brittany blinked. Then blinked again. Then started laughing. Then laughing harder. Santana smirked. Finally, she'd gotten one over on the scientist.

"SERIOUSLY? Are you serious right now?"

"Well, yeah." Santana had barley confirmed before she was pushed back in her chair. Strong arms around her shoulders and a mess of blonde hair in her face. She closed her eyes and appreciated the moment for one heartbeat, and then two, before Brittany was pulling away. Flushed with embarrassment she retreated towards the door.

"Sorry, Commander. I'm just so stoked." She admitted, not quite meeting Santana's eyes.

"Just Santana."

And Brittany beamed.

"See you tomorrow, _just_ Santana." She laughed.

"Goodnight, Brittany."

* * *

Santana checked her radio one last time before dropping it in the cubby outside the no-grav room. The pressurized glass room was her favorite area of the ship. Extending from the base of the ship and without the magnet infused alloy that the rest of the ship was contracted from, the room allowed total weightlessness with a full view of the space that surrounded them.

Climbing down the ladder that dropped into the no-grav room was akin to easing into a swimming pool. When the heaviness of her bottom half began to ease, she checked once more to make sure her mag-belt was secure, and pushed off, letting herself drift in the openness. She let her fingers dance for a moment across the glass on the opposite side of the room; Just a reminder that she wasn't truly lost to the black, and pushed softly so she would come to float in the middle of the room. In these quiet moments she found the solitude of sinking softly below the water's surface. All the rest seemed to fade as she sank into weightlessness. However, the experience was not limited by lung capacity and infinitely more beautiful. They'd be touching down on Phobos in 45 hours, and then as soon as they were in position would launch the _Valkyrie_ shuttle to Mars' surface. If Santana went to the bottom of the no-grav room, she could look up, past the nose of the _Neptune_ to see the planet growing by the hour. Santana took several deep breathes. The stress of the past few days' preparation seeped out of her skin and into the endless space.

She blinked once, twice, then let heavy eyelids fall closed.

"Commander…Commander…"

Was she going crazy out here? Was the space calling her? Maybe she needed that psyc eval after all. Strong hands grabbed her belt and jerked her awake. Much to Santana's embarrassment, she had fallen asleep in the no-grav chamber. Anderson had his legs through the rungs of the ladder and had grabbed her mag-belt to pull her in. She groaned at her own idiocy and grabbed onto the bottom rung. Anderson clambered up in front of her. She felt the weight of shame, almost as heavy as the gravity, burn across her face.

"If you tell anyone about this, I'll drop kick you out of the airlock."

"Yes, Commander."

"And stop smiling like that. Right now."

"Yes, Commander." He didn't. Santana rubbed her temples and grabbed her radio, with several missed messages.

"What do you need?"

"Flight Commander Hastings would like to see you on the bridge." Santana thanked him, and with one last warning glare, left to see her pilot.

The bridge was one of the most intriguing and intimidating areas of the ship. Most of the crew didn't have much practical reason to make their way to this end of the ship, but the huge panoramic front window and sprawling control panel, with its complicated switches and blinking lights, was enough to draw them all here at some point. And for those that could keep up, the ship's pilot, Flight Commander Spencer Hastings, quick wit was just another bonus. Though Santana couldn't pilot the_ Neptune_ by herself, she was a qualified pilot for smaller vessels and would be flying the _Valkyrie_ shuttle down on its first excursion.

After a few weeks sizing Hastings up during the end of Advance Training, the pilot had muttered something about Hudson's flabby manboobs sucking up all their oxygen, and Santana decided that she would be one of her favorites. It didn't hurt that Quinn had taken a _liking_ to Hastings early on. Though, Santana was sure Quinn would never describe it that way.

_Always the clinical one, that doctor of ours_. Santana snorted at her own pun as she stepped onto the bridge and Hastings spun around to greet her.

"Commander, thanks for coming up. I hope I didn't distract you from anything…too important." She smirked, but Santana didn't rise to the bait.

"What did you need to show me, Hastings?" Santana sat in the co-pilot's seat as Hastings keyed up a diagram on the portion of the window that also served as a navigation screen.

"As we've gotten closer I've been getting a more precise track on Phobos'orbit," The diagram showed the smaller of Mars' moons revolving around the planet. "If we stay on our current trajectory we'll reach Mars' orbit in approximately 42 hours. We'd have to wait another 4 hours to land on Phobos while we wait for it to complete its orbit. That's going to cost us excess fuel." Santana frowned. Fuel conservation was one of the most integral parts of their journey. Once they ran out of fuel… _as the saying goes: creeks and paddles and excrement rivers._

"Have you come up with any alternatives?" Hastings smirked and started typing faster on the key panel. Of course she had.

"If we fire the boosters for two hours we can rendezvous with Phobos in 32 hours." Santana looked at the mock up of the new trajectory that Hastings had overlaid. Her calculations checked out. "I already talked to Chang, and he said it would save us a serviceable amount." Santana nodded.

"Well, what do you even need me for then?"

"Beats me." She answered without hesitation.

"Okay, well do what you need to. I'll just try and make myself useful before you all mutiny," Santana threw over her shoulder. She'd go check with Chang and look at the fuel levels herself, but he and Hastings were solid and she had no doubt they had just shaved ten hours off their trip. Her nerves danced even harder in anticipation. Just ten hours closer.

* * *

Phobos reminded Santana of a crinkled up can someone kicked around Mars, but much duller. The moon was one of the least reflective bodies in the solar system and it paled in comparison its russet neighbor. _Neptune_ had successful touched down and they'd be passing over their Mars landing site in just an hour. Santana pulled on her spacesuit on, feeling thankful the days of the "marshmallow" were long gone. Astronauts now donned sleeker suit with a tougher exterior. Each suit was fit to its astronaut. The helmet was still slightly domed and shaded, but more reminiscent of a full faced motorcycle helmet than the fishbowls of old. Santana's suit read "Lopez" across her left breast, and black piping down the arms signified her as Commander class. Everyone had their own name on the left and the mission insignia piece fitted to their right shoulder, just under an American flag. They would wear their suits inside the shuttles, though they could leave their helmets off until it was time to exit. Santana rechecked her suit one last time before meeting with her ground crew outside the _Valkyrie._ Besides herself, Brittany, the Chief Engineer Mike Chang, and Quinn, would be the first to experience Mars. While Santana's choices had been partially practical, but she wasn't afraid to admit she picked her favorites from each sector. Standing outside _Valkyrie_'s entrance not even Quinn could contain her smile, and Brittany and Chang whispered excitedly, nudging shoulders and grinning like fools.

"Alright crew," Brittany and Chang fell silent, waiting for the important words from their Commander, "I picked you because you're the best. The whole world is going to be watching this, watching us. A thousand eyes are seeing this moment through your eyes. Feel proud, feel special. You are special. If something should go wrong, we've prepared," they all nodded, "and I trust you all, as I hope you trust me. Now let's get going,"and Santana smiled, really smiled, "because this is going to be fucking awesome." After a series of "yes Commander"s they filed into the _Valkyrie_, with Santana at the helm.

"Lopez to Hastings"

"Hastings by"

"Lifting off on my count."

"Ten-four"

Santana gave the proprietary count down. Calming her nerves with the ritualistic flipping of switches and checking of gauges. Her fingers found a familiar pace amongst the buttons of the console, and just as her conscious thought caught up to her muscle memory, they were airborne and steadily approaching the planet's surface.

The biggest challenge was keeping a shuttle so small steady, but Santana managed to set them down gently with a plume of rust colored dust about 20 yards from the Scout rover. She took a deep breath, rechecked her gauges and unsnapped her harness.

"Alright, get your gear. It's time."

Santana had been thinking about this exact moment for months. For years. Since before she ever knew she would be a part of this crew. But every single fantasy she had imagined was wiped away by reality. Never again would she _not_ know what it was like to look around and double check that everyone had secured their helmets. To push the hatch open button and look across the brown-ish red expanse. Her mind immediately started trying to draw parallels to anything she had experienced before. Mountains in the distance, jutting jaggedly into the sky, a rocky desert that stretched for miles. She walked the five steps down and her boots crunched softly on rocks. She tried desperately to fight the surreal feeling that took hold. She tried to recall the time she'd spent in Arizona; was the desert this sweeping? Surely not so open, with nothing but red and rocks forever. The others came out behind her. No one said anything. Santana wondered if they, like herself, were adding up all the hours they'd worked, the sleepless nights and sore muscles. She wondered if for them, it was worth the families they left behind, and all the time still they had apart. But she knew, if it wasn't worth it, they wouldn't be here. They had sacrificed more and worked harder than anyone else for this chance, and so had she. They all shared this moment. Santana felt the tickle of tears on her face, but she didn't feel ashamed; she knew the others felt it too. The final respite from and justification for a lifetime of work.

After all the long hours, the nights spent alone and wanting, after searching day in and day out for the motivation to be _better, always better_, it was just that one small step that made them immortal.

* * *

**AN: Thanks to all the readers/reviewers/passers-by for giving this thing a chance. I am extremely and humbly grateful. This chapter is dedicated to a kickass scientist: Rosalind Franklin, a badass lady who literally gave her life for science. If you've ever seen a picture of DNA, thank her. Read about her sometime, she totally deserves it.**


	4. Technologic

**A/N: If you'd like a little extra sensory immersion with this chapter. Begin listening to Technologic by Daft Punk ( watch?v=UoPplpBPQxQ) at the ***. It should end just before the end of the chapter. Also the video is fucking creepy. So, don't click over by accident. It's 2.57m long and I based it on an average read speed of around 257WPM.**

* * *

Brittany's face was starting to hurt from smiling. But she couldn't stop. She'd been smiling for days. She was experiencing a whole new world of firsts, and she couldn't decide which one was the best. She'd gotten to relive her first steps _on Mars_, first words _on Mars_, even her first sneeze _on Mars_. Despite being surrounded by what looked like a wasteland, everything felt new and fresh. After so many months confined to the walls of a spacecraft the wide openness of a planet was like slipping out of socks, worn all day, and sliding bare feet between cold sheets.

After their first excursion to the surface, a report back to GC, and a few media statements, the real work had started. Using the _Valkyrie_ to haul the pieces, they had set up a small field lab near their landing site. It wasn't much bigger than a shipping container with an airlock at one end, but Brittany was in love. She had a whole cubical devoted to her lab and Mike had even helped her link a remote version of Tubbs to her datapad. Once she collected some actual samples of the ciliates she could really get to know them. Since she first saw them wiggling around on her screen she'd been dying to look at their genome. Every creature on Earth was made from the same simple set of blue prints…to think that these creatures could be the same, to think that they could be different; Brittany couldn't decide which possibility was more exciting. If their genetic structure was similar to DNA, Brittany had programmed Tubbs run comparison algorithms. If not he would be cataloging and documenting all lab work, leaving Brittany free to experiment to her heart's content.

"Brittany, your allotted rest hours will be over in 30 minutes." The AI startled Brittany from her daydreaming.

"Thanks, Tubbs."

Brittany hopped down gracefully from her bed, tried to attempt a cartwheel in the small space available, failed, and never once stopped grinning. She opened her drawers, gathering her toiletries and clean coveralls.

"Are you excited to get to work today?!" She happily chattered to her AI.

"I cannot accurately respond to your question, as I am not a sentient being. I am a model 1.21 CircuitBoards-Mini Artificial Intelligence Unit." Brittany heaved a frustrated sigh. She knew the AI was intent on being as lame as possible.

"Come on, Tubbs, lighten up a little. I know you're stoked."

"My mechanical components weight approximately 5 grams on Earth. On Mars I will weight approximately 1.5 grams when we are not in the artificial gravity restrictive research facility. So, as per your vernacular, yes, I will 'lighten up a little'."

Brittany laughed all the way to the latrines.

She stepped into the shower, and wondered, as she often did, where the water beating down on her had traveled on the ship. All the water they brought from earth was rigorously filtered and recycled. They were continually eating, drinking, and bathing in the same water over and over again. She wondered if any of Kurt's plants had been hydrated with the same water days ago. Or who might have spit it down the sink after brushing their teeth. Maybe little drops of everyone were raining down on her now. That prospect was much more appealing from some. Like the Commander. Brittany had noticed that Santana had an earlier sleeping schedule than her. Perhaps she had showered in this same cubical only hours before.

Brittany felt the water becoming just a little warmer as her mind wandered, imagining Santana tilting her head back under the showerhead. Her mind's eye wandered lower and she groaned leaning back against the cool metal wall. She flipped off the warm handle and yelped as icy water blasted her for a moment. She shut off the shower, sighing at her silly fantasies. She really needed to find a way to get past those annoyingly professional walls the Commander had worked so hard to construct. Wrapped in a towel, she grinned wickedly at her reflection in the mirror while she brushed her teeth. Now that they were getting settled, she had plenty of time to work her way under Santana's skin. And in the meantime, she had alien life to study.

_What more could a girl ask for?_

Brittany wandered around the Engineering Bay looking for M.S. Finn Hudson. He was supposed to assist her with gathering samples today. She walked around the hulking plasma engine, quiet and cold now that they were docked on Phobos.

"And please keep me safe on this journey, Grilled Cheesus, Amen."

"Hudson?" The tall man looked up at her from where he was kneeling in his space suit. "Were you just praying to…You know what? Never mind. Are you ready to head down to the surface?"

"Yeah, sure thing, Dr. Pierce." He smiled, his mouth quirking oddly to the side, and Brittany scrunched her nose at his awkward facial expressions. At least he was strong and could carry all her equipment. Brittany sent out a page for a pilot and headed to the _Valkryie._

Brittany shook off the momentary disappointment at seeing Flight Commander Hastings and not Santana waiting to pilot the _Valkyrie_ for them.

"You two ready to fly?" The pilot asked. The other two nodded the affirmative and climbed into the shuttle. Brittany was strapping into the seat next to the pilot's chair when she heard Hudson curse. Hastings rolled her eyes. "Damnit, Hudson, just cram yourself somewhere in the back and try not to shove your head through the roof."

Once on the surface, Brittany handed Hudson the box of equipment and together they covered a half a mile radius gathering and separating samples. Satisfied with her haul, Brittany led them back to the research facility.

"Just make sure you seal the box, we'll be scanned for contaminates, then enter the airlock. You can take off your suit and helmet inside the RF," Brittany explained. She was buzzing with excitement. She eyed the specimen box like the biggest present on Christmas morning. A dirty, hopefully bacteria filled, present. Hudson double checked all the airtight seals as the stepped through the front door.

"Scanning commencing in 5 seconds." The feminine robotic voice announced.

"Umm...what's it scanning exactly?" Brittany smiled softly at Hudson's obvious discomfort.

"It's really just a formality-"

"Scanning commencing immediately."

"There have always been concerns about bringing contaminates from Earth to Mars, now that we know there's something here as well, the reverse is true-"

"Scanning complete." The airlock hissed open and they stepped through as Brittany continued her explanation.

"Though it's unlikely anything from the human microbiome could survive away from human contact, especially in such a barren environment, it's important to be thorough." Brittany pointed to her cubical and Hudson set the sample box on the counter, it felt much heavier in the RF, and they removed their suits.

"Microbiome?" he asked.

"Yeah you know, like all the bacteria that symbiote with the human body," Brittany shrugged. She took her glasses out of her coverall pocket and pulled on a pair of gloves, itching to open the specimen box. "There are trillions just in the gut…" Brittany half-heartedly explained. Hudson looked down at his own stomach, his face turning a little green.

"Trillions of…bacteria…?" He swallowed uneasily.

"Mmmhmmm…"

"I'm going to go…do something else." Hudson wandered off, but Brittany had already turned her attention to the silver box where all her excitement had bundled. Taking out her datapad she called up Tubbs' remote utility.

"Tubbs, please begin sample tracking."

She pulled out her gloves and began categorizing the samples by location. This would be the most tedious, but essential step in gathering information about the spread of life on Mars. Taking a deep breath, she gently poured the rusty red sand into several test tubes, scanning each one across her datapad. As Tubbs read the sample numbers allowed, Brittany recorded their destination.

"Sample one-alpha."

"Mass spectrometry."

"Sample one-beta."

"Genome extraction."

Three hours later, with the help of Tubbs, Brittany had categorized every sample and sent all the tubes destined for mass spectrometry over to Abrams. He would run them through the spectrometer and determine the elemental composition of the soil. Brittany had once again recruited Hudson to help separate samples. The _Valkyrie_ would be back in an hour and he would be heading back up to the ship. She took advantage of the extra set of hands while she had them.

"This is so cool. It feels just like sandy-dirt." Hudson had poured out the contents of one of the tubes into his hands and was sifting through it with his fingers. Brittany sighed good-naturedly.

"You know you're supposed to be wearing gloves right?" Hudson shrugged and made a funnel with his hand, allowing the dirt to flow back into its container. "There are totally all kinds of bacteria in there." He jerked toward her with wide eyes, but before he could say anything, she started laughing. "I'm just kidding." He smiled and brushed off his hand on his pants. "Maybe." She muttered as an afterthought.

"Okay so just look through here and if you see anything moving, separate that sample." She instructed, showing Hudson how to load the slide and the easiest way to peer into the microscope. "If you get a headache, let me know and I'll switch the view to the datapad screen. But that's kind of cheating." He chuckled.

"Alright, whatever you say, Dr. Pierce." They went through slides in companionable silence. Brittany needed enough ciliate-containing samples to see if their genome was in DNA format and to then extract it for coding.

Brittany jumped when she felt a hand ghost across her lower back. Her glasses tumbled off her head and hit the ground with an embarrassing clatter. Brittany turned around to find her smirking commander bending to pick them up. She had been so engrossed in her work, she didn't hear the monotone announcement of the voice interface scanning or the hissing of the airlock.

"Dr. Pierce…I think you may have dropped these," Santana held out her glasses and Brittany snatched them back. She could read Santana's joy at teasing her in every line of her body. From the way she casually held Brittany's glasses by the edge of the frame, to the way the side of her mouth pulled up just a hair. Her eyebrows were raised and she looked like a cat that had the mouse just where she wanted it. "Hudson, I think the shuttle was running a little hot on the way here. Maybe you could take a look at it?"

"Um, I don't really see how that's possible." She shot him an icy warning glare and he immediately straightened up from where he'd be leaning on the counter. "Yes, Commander, I'll get right on it."

"So…_Commander_, what brings you out to the RF? I thought you were just pack and dashing." Brittany turned to face Santana as she walked along the lab, running her hand across the microscope Hudson had vacated. She twisted the large knob to adjust the focus and gave an uncharacteristic shrug.

"Oh you know, just wanted to stretch my legs a bit," She turned all her attention on Brittany, "Enjoy the view." Brittany knew she was blushing. She knew the way she looked down and adjusted her glasses was telling. But she also knew that the only thing that could distract her from the depths of her microscope was just a few feet away. Santana must have felt herself toeing the line of familiarity, because she cleared her throat and stood a little straighter. "Why don't you tell me about what you've done so far?" Brittany beamed. Asking her about her science was better than any compliment. She motioned Santana closer to look at her datapad.

"We've categorized samples. Some to analyze material composition, and others for strictly organic analysis. Once I get a sample with a decent amount of ciliates, we'll look at and try to extract their genetic material." If her explanations went over Santana's head, she didn't let it show. She asked all the right questions as Brittany explained how they would use a polymerase chain reaction to amplify the miniscule amount of genes, which Tubbs would then decipher and compare.

"It seems like you're very committed to this. I think you've logged more hours planetside than even the engineering crew." Brittany hummed the affirmative. "All this science must be really important to you."

"Not just to me. To everyone," she insisted. Santana motioned for her to continue. She adjusted her glasses, and glanced out the window overlooking the dusty, bare atmosphere. "Everyone remembers the first time they stopped looking out at the world and starting looking up into the sky. That pull into emptiness. The feeling that burrows in your chest, a gentle longing for that deep, dark blackness, " She shrugged. "Humans are coded to explore, to question. It's in our DNA," She let a coy look slide toward her commander, "I can say that with certainty because I'm kind of an expert," Santana rolled her eyes. But Brittany continued. "How many kids are standing out in their yards right now, looking up into that vast bowl of stars and feeling that little tug for the first time? Now we know that all that time they've been looking, something else has been looking back." Brittany smiled softly. "It's kind of comforting, you know? All this time we've been sending all these hopes and dreams out, and instead of just fading away, we can show there's been something here to catch them."

Before she could feel embarrassed at waxing poetic or Santana could respond, her radio crackled to life.

"Hudson to Lopez" Santana barley hid the annoyed look on her face.

"What is it?"

"The shuttle's fine I'm heading back to the RF now."

"10-4. Anything else?" they heard the faint hiss of the outer door of the airlock when Hudson stepped inside and the double echo of the VI over the radio.

"Yeah, if you want to get back to the ship-"

""Scanning commencing in 5 seconds."

"-then we probably have to leave in the next ten minutes." Santana glanced down at the modified clock on her radio.

"Scanning commencing immediately."

"And Chang wanted my help cleaning the engine while it's off-"A yellow light blinked on inside the airlock. The sound of a slow even tone beeped faintly through the door and echoed again louder through the open radio connection.

"Hudson." Santana stepped toward the airlock, where Hudson continued to chatter.

"-and if we don't go back now I'll have to adjust my rest hours-"

"Bioscan failed. Pathogen detected."

"-so it'd be best to go back now."

"Decontamination will commence in five seconds."

"Finn." Brittany glanced at the now blinking yellow light. Her stomach clenched against itself. "Finn, the VI…"

"HUDSON!"

"Decontamination commencing immediately." Hudson yelled out as the room filled with a hot antibiotic steam. His suit protected him from harm, but the rapidly filling room was distressing.

"What the hell!?" Hudson yelled. Brittany's mouth was dry, but seeing Hudson's distress, she found her voice.

"It must be an accident. It's just a precaution. It's an accident." The more she said it, the less sure she was of who exactly she was trying to reassure.

"An accident?" Hudson's voice was trembling a little over the radio. Santana looked sharply back at Brittany.

"Secondary scan commencing immediately."

"Just stay calm, Finn. I'm sure you'll be fine now." The airlock lit up with the UV lights that would constitute a more extensive scan. "It'll be okay." They could see him nodding as the lights danced over his suit.

"Scanning complete." The yellow light flicked off. The breath she didn't know she was holding rushed out of Brittany's chest. A red light filled the airlock chamber and a low warning tone blared across the RF.

"Bioscan failed."

And her heart beat twice as fast.

"Internal pathogen detected."

* * *

**A/N 2: This is a general disclaimer to the next chapter. It includes slight spoilers. Do not read further if you don't want to be spoiled.**

** I'm sure you all know about and have struggled with Cory Monteith's passing. Unfortunately, this story does include character death, and in light of recent events, may seem callous or unnecessary. I considered altering the story, but it's path had been laid out from the beginning and since events were already set in motion I decided to stay true to my original vision. The events in the following chapters are by no means intended to mirror, or are in response to the actual real life tragedy that has occurred. Thank you for your understanding and with you all I send my thoughts out to Lea, and Cory's friends and family. **


End file.
